Popular
by nutellaismydrug
Summary: The year is 1959. Fascinated by typewriters, Kurt Hummel wants to become a secretary, despite it being a female-dominated profession. After finding a talent that ties in with typewriters, his world is turned upside-down when he becomes famous first in America, then worldwide.
1. Prologue

Kurt shuffled downstairs in his pyjamas after trying to get to sleep for a number of hours, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as his bare feet met the cold, gritty floor of his father's garage. Nevertheless, he continued to pad across the room until he reached the desk that his father used as a reception of sorts. On the desk was a brand new, typewriter, shining in the dim light coming from the sole window in the room.

He stood for a moment, admiring the dull gleam on the grey plastic. Typewriters had been around for some time, but he had never actually seen one in the flesh, much less used one. Curiosity overwhelming him, he took a piece of paper from a stack beside the typewriter and fumbled with it until it into the carriage and was in place.

He surveyed his handiwork for a moment before striking the first letter: a 'K'. It made a satisfying sound, and the letter was clearly printed on the page, just like that. A smile replacing his frown, he typed out the rest of his name, taking a moment to find each letter before pressing it.

When 'Kurt Hummel' was written on the paper, he took it out of the carriage. He wasn't sure why it gave him such a sense of joy to see his name in print like that, but he had only ever seen it hand-written, so it was a new thrill. Clicking his tongue between his teeth, he rolled his paper back into the typewriter and proceeded to type the names of everybody he knew, followed by every place he'd ever been to – that was a short list – and then all the places he wanted to go to – a much, much longer list.

As Kurt typed, his fingers moved faster over the keys without his realising. They learned where each letter was on the keyboard, and he could eventually type without even thinking about it, eventually filling up both sides of his sheet of paper.

Satisfied, he took the paper out of the typewriter and tucked it under his arm to take upstairs, tucking it in a drawer in his bedside table before laying down in bed and closing his eyes. He eventually managed to get to sleep, with dreams of letters and buttons that clicked with each press.

* * *

**A/N**

My friends! Long time no see, and for that, I'm so sorry. I've had horrible writers block for the past forever, as well as being plagued with "the most important exams I will ever sit". Nonetheless, exams are over and summer is here, along with my new favourite film on which this story is based.

The film is called Populaire, and is set in the 1950s. I shan't tell you the plot in case any of you are hiding from spoilers, but if you want to know, I recommend you google it. Particularly Romain Duris. He's…wow. But this is just a short little epilogue, and I hope you like it and that you'd like to continue reading!

P.S Cover art is 50's!Klaine by muchacha11 on Tumblr! (AKA muchacha10 on deviantART!)


	2. Chapter 1

Kurt checked his reflection one last time in the mirror. He was wearing a navy blue shirt that had a tan collar, along with a dark brown tie with lighter stripes and tan spots. On his legs, he wore black, slim-fitting trousers which, in his humble opinion, made his legs and butt look great. Not that anybody would notice.

Checking his hair one last time, Kurt pulled his cream trenchcoat on and walked downstairs with his suitcase in tow. Glancing to the mirror in the hall to check that his hair was still in place, he left his suitcase beside the front door and walked to the garage to find his dad's assistant, Finn. The two had known each other for as long as they could remember, and thought of each other as brothers.

"Finn?" Kurt asked, the heels of his wingtip shoes clicking on the garage floor.

Finn turned around, shooting Kurt a lopsided grin. "Kurt! Do you wanna help me with this car? I need to change two tyres," he said, his eyes travelling up and down Kurt's figure. "You'll get your jacket dirty if you wear that, though."

Kurt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Though loveable, he often wanted to punch Finn in the mouth. "I have a job interview today, remember? In Westerville?"

To this, Finn nodded. "Oh yeah. Sorry, Kurt. I think your dad wanted to talk to you about that again," he said somewhat tentatively.

"He's not talking me out of it. I have a bag packed," Kurt warned, though he wasn't exactly sure why he was telling Finn that. "I'd better go, or else I'll be late. I have to make a good first impression," he said after a moment's thought, walking briskly across the garage to give Finn a quick hug. "I'll be back later to tell you whether I got the job or not."

Finn nodded again, rubbing Kurt's back. "Awesome. I'll tell Burt," he said, squeezing Kurt once before letting go and giving him a gently push towards the door.

"Bye, Finn!" Kurt called over his shoulder, pausing by the door and looking over his shoulder when Finn called his name.

Finn waved at Kurt, picking up a spanner. "Good luck today," he said, turning back to the car and beginning to work on the tyres.

* * *

Kurt was among the first to arrive for the interview at Anderson & Sons' insurance company. He sat down in a plastic chair in what was being used as a temporary waiting room for job applicants and folded his legs, folding his jacket on his lap and watching the other applicants – all women – enter the room.

He got quite a few disapproving glances, particularly from a group of three women who were grouped closely together, talking just loudly enough so that the whole room could hear them.

"A secretary must always dress demurely so as not to attract attention," one of the women said, adjusting her glasses.

"And it's absolutely obligatory that a secretary wears glasses," another said, raising her shaped eyebrows pointedly in Kurt's direction. "Even if _her _eyesight is perfect," she added, putting an unnecessary emphasis on the 'her'.

Kurt glared at them for a moment longer before forcing himself to look elsewhere, concentrating on the patterns that the grain made on the wooden door that led to the office. As he stared, the door opened and a woman with her hair piled on top of her head emerged, looking smug.

The three women who had been talking perked up immediately. "What's he like?" one of them asked, pushing her glasses further up her nose and adjusting her hair.

The woman who had come out of the office stopped, sweeping her eyes across the room deliberately slowly. "Not bad at all," she said finally, smirking and stepping out of the door, her high heels clicking as she went.

This announcement sent the rest of the women into some kind of fussing frenzy, all of them suddenly fluffing their hair and brushing imaginary wrinkles out of their clothes. From the office, a name was called. "Kurt Hummel."

Kurt stood up, straightening his tie and walking into the office without so much as a glance towards the other women.

While he knew that the insurance firm had been taken over by one of the 'sons' mentioned in the name, he did not expect the man at the desk to be so handsome. He looked more like he belonged on the silver screen than behind a desk. Pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind, Kurt closed the door and walked over to the desk, extending a hand towards the man. "Good morning. My name is Kurt Hummel," he said, meeting his amber eyes with his own blue ones.

"I know. I'm Blaine Anderson," Blaine said, his lips twitching into a smile as he shook Kurt's outstretched hand. "Have a seat, Mr. Hummel." Kurt sat. "I'm going to cut to the chase here. What makes you want to be a secretary? It seems pretty unconventional, and I'm sure a young man like you could do a lot better."

Kurt folded his legs once more, thinking the question over before replying. "I come from a small town, Mr. Anderson. Lima. There's not much there aside from the grocery store and my father's garage. I'm expected to take over the garage, but it's not…me. And I know what you're thinking, men don't usually want to work for other men. But being a secretary is in fashion now! I could travel the world, go to New York, Paris, London…" he trailed off, sighing dreamily.

Blaine fixed Kurt with a stern look. "If you're working for me, we'll most likely be travelling around Westerville. If we're going to be really wild, we might go to Columbus."

"It's a start," Kurt said after a momentary pause, his gaze never faltering. "And I'm good at typing. I can do that," he added, his eyes flicking briefly to the typewriter sitting on the desk beside Blaine.

Blaine shook his head, sighing. "I'm sorry, Kurt, but I don't think you're right for me," he said, shrugging and standing up, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. He walked across the room and opened the door to the waiting room, looking across the other women who were waiting. Kurt could hear the excited gasps and the sounds of the women shuffling in their seats.

While Blaine was gone, Kurt took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of paper, ink and cigarette smoke as he reached across Blaine's desk and pulled the typewriter towards him. He rolled a piece of paper into the carriage and picked up a letter from one of Blaine's clients. taking a cursory glance behind him and beginning to copy the letter. He started out slowly, but his fingers sped up as he worked through the letter.

Unbeknownst to Kurt, Blaine had turned on his heel and was watching Kurt as he typed at a faster pace than he had seen before. Impressed, Blaine closed the door behind him, stepping closer to Kurt and trying not to watch too closely as his shirt untucked itself from his trousers, revealing a pale strip of skin on his back.

As Blaine was distracted by the pale dip of Kurt's spine, he didn't expect Kurt to suddenly pull the paper out of the typewriter, holding it towards Blaine. "Done," he said simply. Blaine took the sheet from Kurt and picked up the original letter from the desk, looking between them to make sure that they were identical. Shaking what he was sure was a deer-in-the-headlights look off his face, he looked up at Kurt, who was primly tucking his shirt back into his trousers.

"I'll tell you what, Kurt. I'm going to put you on trial for a week. If you're good enough, you can stay," Blaine said, nodding shortly and putting the identical sheets of paper down on his desk. "You start tomorrow. Nine o'clock, right here," he added, extending his hand to Kurt for him to shake.

Kurt stood up, a laugh escaping his lips despite his best attempts to remain suave. "Thank you so much! I'll be here. You won't regret this, I swear," he said, shaking Blaine's hand enthusiastically. "Thank you!" he repeated as he walked out of the door, smirking at the women still waiting in the office and sashaying out of the door.

* * *

When he arrived home, Kurt went straight to the garage where he found Finn, working on a different car. "Hello," he called, chuckling as Finn bumped his head on the bonnet of the car he was working on. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

Finn rubbed the back of his head, putting down the pliers he'd been using. "Don't worry about it. How did it go?"

"It was…I was the only boy there," Kurt said meekly, hopping up to sit on the reception desk and running a finger lightly along the keys of the typewriter.

"Come on, Kurt. Don't let it get you down. You'll get a job," Finn said gently. He wiped his hands on a rag and wandered over to Kurt, squeezing his shoulder.

Kurt looked down at the hand on his shoulder. "I got the job," he said, unable to hold off his smile for a moment longer.

Finn stepped, grinning. "What? Kurt, I thought you didn't get it!" he laughed, dragging Kurt off the table and giving him a hug. "Oh my god, that's insane. Congratulations. But you're going to have to tell Burt."

Kurt sighed, nodding and resting his cheek against Finn's shoulder. "I know. And I don't think he's going to like it. But he has to know," he mumbled, reluctantly pulling out of Finn's hug. "I'll go talk to him. Wish me luck," he said. Without another word, he left the garage and made a beeline for the office where his father usually was if he wasn't preoccupied with a customer.

As Kurt poked his head around the door, Burt looked up. "You're home," he said, glancing Kurt up and down as he stepped fully into the office. "You look fancy. How did your…thing go?"

"It was a job interview, Dad," Kurt sighed, sitting down on the worn old sofa in the corner of the office. "And it went really well. I'm on trial for a week."

Burt jolted in his seat, frowning. "You're on trial? Kurt, what have you done?"

"No, Dad. On trial for a job. He's letting me try out for a week, and if I'm good enough, he'll keep me," Kurt explained, fiddling with the belt of his jacket. "I start tomorrow."

Burt watched Kurt carefully. "You need to find a partner, Kurt. Brittany Pierce is available," he said, narrowing his eyes the slightest bit at his son.

Kurt only returned the gesture. "I don't want to go out with Brittany, Dad. I need to look for hostels in Westerville," he said, folding his arms and standing up. "I'll be leaving early tomorrow morning," he said, opening a drawer and pulling out a phone book. He flounced out of the room and scurried up the stairs, removing his jacket and sitting on his bed to look for somewhere to stay for the week.

* * *

The next morning, it was half past six and Kurt was wearing his best suit. His bag was packed with all of his favourite outfits as well as his toiletries which had been hastily added that morning. He had said goodbye to Finn the previous evening, but hadn't spoken to his father since they'd been in the garage office together. Preparing himself for the worst, Kurt sidled towards the living room where he could hear the radio. He stepped inside to see his father sleeping in his armchair.

Memories flooding back to him of other times in that armchair when he was closer to his dad, Kurt picked up a blanket and draped it across Burt. Almost as an afterthought, he leaned forward to kiss his cheek, watching him for a moment longer before scurrying down the stairs to collect his suitcase and leave the house in order to catch the bus to Westerville.

* * *

**A/N**

Two chapters in one day, yo! But the first one was an prologue which was going to just be incorporated into this, but I thought an prologue would be fun. Maybe there'll even be an epilogue! (No promises, though!)

This story is really fun. All through the film, all I could see were little places where Kurt and Blaine – particularly Kurt – would fit perfectly. The main character is so lovely and kind, but then she can be so adorably snippy. Just like a certain Kurt Hummel.

ANYWAY! I'll try and update as frequently as possible, only around a month left of school, then on holiday for a fortnight, but then the entire summer holidays stretch out in front of me for writing and fun.

(I'll try and find inspiration for the other stories, I haven't given up on them entirely!)


End file.
